The Gentleman's Art of Seduction
by Lady-Kiri
Summary: Kink Meme Prompt: America is growing into a fine, strapping young man. France takes notice and begins to seduce him. Furious, England tries to keep America away from France, but against his better judgment, he ends up doing this by seducing him back.
1. Chapter 1

**Please Read First: **This is actually an old story, as in from 2011. I wrote this for the Hetalia Kink meme and it's _**incomplete**_. There are 15 chapters completed (I'm posting two chapters together, so there should be 6 more updates). I haven't written for Hetalia in over a year, so I don't think it will ever be completed. But I wanted to post what I have here to be able to keep track of it since the kink meme moved. So please keep that in mind. Maybe one day I will, but it's very unlikely. I tried fixing as many mistakes as I could, but this is still un-beta.

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"Alfred you have to come and see this!" The young colony turned around to see one of his friends make his way towards him. The brunet boy was grinning widely, by the time he made it to America's side, he was also out of breath.

Alfred frowned. "What's wrong John?" It was rare for the other boy to run out here, specially when he was meant to be working at his father's store. "You aren't in trouble again, are you?"

The other boy shook his head, finally catching his breath. "You said you wanted to know if any ships arrived to the harbor, right." America started at the other boy for a moment, before he too grinned. It couldn't be that he'd finally come to visit him.

It had been months since he'd last seen England. Sometimes he even feared that the other wouldn't be able to make it, would be unable to come. Be it because he was busy back home or even forgot about him. But then he remembered that England had promised that he would always come back to see him.

That's why America knew that England would come. This was the first ship to arrive this month and America was hoping that his mentor was on it.

He quickly made his way to the harbor, on foot. It wasn't far from his home. He would be able to make it there in an hour or less.

The harbor was filled with family members and merchants. America even recognized some soldiers, probably still I the colonies after the war.

The war, they'd won, alongside the British. Now America could show his mentor how strong he really was. He was no longer that small child.

Yet with all the people, America was unable to find the Empire. Feeling disappointed he returned home after the sun had fallen.

He frowned as he started ta the sealing above. It had been almost five years since he'd last seen the European nation. The colony covered his head. He felt almost like crying, but didn't. He wasn't a child anymore. England was probably very busy and that's why he hadn't been able to sneak away to see him.

Sleep came late that night. By the time the next morning had arrived America was in a better mood. The maids were outside, doing the laundry. Since America himself didn't have anything to do, he picked his musket and began to clean it.

He worked on the weapon for almost half an hour when noise outside caught his attention. Probably passing merchants or just travelers, the help would take care of them if they needed anything. America then returned to the work at hand.

Until finally someone pulled the door open and walked inside. America had been standing close enough to the door to see the other person and quickly recognized who it was.

"England!" America quickly put the weapon away and ran to help the other man. England was smiling until he finally got a better look of the colony. America had grown, he'd grown so much. He stood there, mouth slightly open as he took in the changes.

America didn't seem to notice the other's look of surprise. He was far too glad to see his mentor at last. "You came."

'You'd grown.' England thought to himself as he looked at the (now taller than him) colony. It was difficult to get letters across the Atlantic. He hadn't been able to write to the other as much as head wanted. But given the first chance he got, he found a ship to the colonies and had made the long trip to see his American colony.

But he hadn't expected to see him so grown up. Last time he'd seen America, he had been but a boy. He had even picked the small boy up before getting on the ship. Now America could be the one picking him up.

"You've changed…"

America started at the other man in confusion. "Huh?" Changed? He was still the same person.

"You've grown," England rectified, "You're so big. So fast…I didn't."

At that America finally laughed. "Of course I've grown. It has been five years England."

"Yes of course, is just." He hadn't expected for him to grow up so fast. He couldn't have expected for the other to have such an early grow sprout. His northern neighbor still didn't look any older than ten maybe eleventh.

"What's that?" America pointed to the large box England had been carrying.

"Oh. Some gifts, mostly tea." England finally said. Recovering from the surprise he'd received.

"Awesome! I'll get the maid to prepare some." America wasn't as fond of the drink as the British nation was, but he knew how happy it made England when they had tea together. That was the reason why he also ate his food, no matter how bad it tasted and how many times he burnt it.

"That would be nice." England was tired from the long trip. He would have prepared the drink himself, if he didn't want to just seat down. Seen America hadn't helped.

"For how long are you staying?" America finally asked when the two of them were sitting in the parlor.

England placed the cup down. He didn't really have an exact date. "I'm hoping for at least a month." Seen America had been a wakeup call. America was growing fast. England wanted to make sure that everything was well with the boy. He'd missed so much, he'd missed seen him grow into a young man. There was little he could do now.

America was exited to know that England wouldn't be leaving right away. "I may have to go into town tomorrow. I have to meet with the governor."

"Huh?" The America looked up from his cup. "Already?" England had just arrived and already he had work.

"I'll try to get back as soon as I can." The happiness quickly drained away. America hoped this wasn't how England's stay was going to be. He'd been hoping to have a chance to spent time with him. I(t was just like England to get away from work back in Europe, only to find more work in the colonies.

"I have to do this." England tried to explain. America simply shook his head and said nothing. "Maybe you can come with me?"

America thought this over. Every month it was his job to visit the governor, governors from the other colonies even wrote to him. He wasn't exactly fond of them. They were boring and his mind always drifted away from them. But going would mean expending time with England. He still needed to get some things from town, also to talk to John.

"I'll accompany England." America finally said. He could sneak away to talk to his friend if the meeting got too long.

England smiled as the two finished their tea in silence. That night England had almost tucked the other into bed. But before he did it, he was quickly reminded America no longer needed that.

"England?" The Empire nation was awakened from his thoughts by his colony calling him from his room. Walking into the room he noticed that this too had changed. The usual toys had been tugged away. At least it was still as messy as he remembered.

"Yes, America." England stayed by the door. He'd seen the colony in his underclothes many times before. But this was different now. America was no longer a child. He was a young man, a handsome one at that. As he hated himself for thinking it, it was undeniable.

"Aren't you going to kiss me goodnight?" It was such an innocent thing to ask. England had kissed to boy before sleep many times before. He stepped closer and planted a quick kiss on the other blonde's forehead.

"Goodnight, may the faeries protect you in your dreams." England smiled down at the colony bellow.

"You still believe in those things, old man?" America smirked. England now blushed in anger, but chose to ignore the boy. Apparently the changes hadn't just been physical. The younger blonde continued to laugh, even after England had finally stepped away.

England picked the candle up and blew the light out. Stepping out of the room, he then returned to his own room.

He was unable to sleep that night. Something was changing between him and the colony. Something he couldn't right now explain.

The meeting was exactly as boring as America had expected it to be. After almost three hours of sitting down in a chair, listening two the other two men talk, he was ready to leave. As much as he wanted to spent time with England, he just wasn't made for long meetings.

Moving closer to the Empire, America whispered to his ear that he wanted something to eat. England nodded in understanding and the British colony stood up and left. He knew there was a small place close by. A tavern, that served some of the best food found in the Bostonian city. If America was lucky he would even find John in there.

He enjoyed admiring the servers. The owners had two daughters, which brought in a large percentage of the costumers. America thought they looked nice enough, but it felt completely wrong to think of his people in such a way. So he tried to avoid such thoughts.

The place was already busy with drinking, hungry sailors. Everyone was talking loudly and even now and then someone would sing off sync. Overall there was an air of good mood and cheerfulness.

America didn't usually visit these places. He was usually busy in the manor or visiting the other colonies. Since his mentors went with him to those places, they didn't exactly approve of him visiting such low establishments. He probably had only been able to come today because England didn't know where he was going.

John was nowhere to be found in the establishment. But America did notice someone else. People didn't really stand out much in these places. They were mostly dirty sailors and sometimes even a couple of soldiers.

But there was a reason why America had noticed the other. It was a girl. America knew the sisters; he'd seen them many times before in town. They weren't easy to miss. The woman sitting in one of the corners, celebrating with the other men happily, wasn't one of them.

Her brown hair was pulled back. She was wearing a blue cape over her shoulders. She was speaking English, but it was hard to understand. America quickly recognized her as French. He'd met enough French soldiers during the war to recognize it.

Blue, a darker shade than America's own (almost purplish even), roamed the room until finally settling on him. America's breath hitched. The woman looked strangely familiar, thought he couldn't exactly remember where he'd seen her before.

The woman smiled and mouthed something. But America was too far to hear her. He quickly turned to look away. He didn't know why, but there was something different about her.

Almost the same feeling he got when he was around England and Canada. Or even that time he'd accidentally encountered Spain while visiting the Southern colonies.

Could it be that this person was also a country?

If that was true, should America inform England about it? He wasn't exactly sure what to do. He hadn't given many chances to meet other countries. Even with some of them colonizing parts of his land. England had always acted over protective of him. Even with his strength, America had never directly fought against another nation and he'd been quite small back then.

America's thoughts where finally interrupted when his food was placed before him. Along with a drink he was sure he hadn't asked for.

"I didn't…" American pointed to the beverage.

Mary, who was indeed one of the sisters, nodded towards the corner. America noticed that the woman was gone. But she had paid for his drink apparently before leaving.

Mary was gone too, leaving America to his thoughts. He ate his food and even drank the whole thing. He wasn't used to drinking, so the beverage left him a bit tipsy. It had been stronger than he'd expected. With some difficulty he tried to make his way back to England.

He decided to wait for England outside. He didn't want the other country seen him in such an embarrassing state. Hopefully by the time England was done, the fresh air would have helped him sober up.

Not even ten minutes had gone by before America was forced to stand up, running to the side of the building to dispose of the content of his stomach. He would have killed for some water right there. But he wasn't feeling well enough to go anywhere else to get some.

If he went into the building he could risk coming across England, who wouldn't be very happy to find him in such a state.

Going back to his previous sitting position, America rested his head against the building. Without even realizing it, sleep overtook him.

When England finally left the building, he found the colony lying on the ground, head resting against the building. He walked towards the colony, touching his fest. He was near enough to smell the fading familiar scent of alcohol.

Frowning, he finally shook the American awake. "Alfred." In public they always preferred to use each other's human names.

America groaned, but finally began to react. Opening his eye he looked up at the Empire, who was now standing again. It took him a moment to focus. He hadn't even noticed he'd fallen asleep, but now awake he could feel the growing headache.

"England?" The boy sounded so innocent, like he didn't know what he'd done. He probably didn't. No matter how much older he looked, it seemed like America still acted as a child.

"What are you doing? Sleeping here, outside where anyone can see you." What people would say troubled England. But he was more worried about someone trying to rob the sleeping boy or worse. The colonies were not above such acts and violence.

"Sorry Arthur, I didn't mean to fall asleep out here. I was just waiting for you." America said; he still wasn't fully awake. The headache wasn't helping at all. He also had a sudden urge to throw out all he'd eaten that day.

"You drank." It wasn't a question. America feeling slightly more awake could now see the look of anger and disappointment on the British nation.

America looked away, feeling trapped. He had known England wouldn't have approved of him drinking. He didn't even known why he'd accepted the drink. Maybe it had been curiosity. He'd never done anything like it and the trill had been too tempting. But now facing England, he felt like the child he'd been years ago.

"I…well, kind of. But I didn't buy it," America tried to defend himself, "someone bought me the drink and I just couldn't say no. It would have been rude." It'd just been a drink. His first one, that's probably why he hadn't been able to handle it that well.

England still wasn't convinced. But this wasn't the place to scold the colony. He grabbed the other's hand, to lead and support him, and began to make their way towards the carriage.

"I hope you don't go around accepting drinks all the time. All disoriented like this you could get hurt." Once in the carriage England wasn't holding back.

America, who was now looking embarrassed, couldn't even look at him in the eye. "I've learnt my lesson. I'm never drinking again."

England couldn't help but feel slightly sorry for the colony. "When we get home, I'm preparing you a good cup of tea; it should help with the pain."

"I'm going to sleep until tomorrow." America laid his head on the Englishman's lap. The movement from the carriage was starting to make him feel sick again. He didn't notice as the Empire went rigid.

"You should, tomorrow is going to be a long day."

"Why?" The colony asked, not looking up.

"The governor is holding a feast and has invited us as guests of honor." America did look up now, England sighted, noticing the look of horror on his face. "Yes, you have to attend."

"Great." If there was a thing America hated, it was attending fancy feasts. "Do I have to wear…?"

"Yes you have to dress up formally." America didn't bother to hide his disappointment. "You should get used to it. It is something you'll have to do as an adult, as a nation." Or in America's case, as a British colony.

_"I know, but I don't have to enjoy it."_


	2. Chapter 2

Here are chapters 3 and 4. I'm going to try to have everything I have written up as quickly as I can since I only have to edit some of it. Again, I'm the only one betaing this, so I'm, sorry for any mistakes. A couple of translations at the bottom.

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"England, do I really have to wear this?" America frowned at his reflection. His hear had been tied with a black ribbon. At least he didn't have to wear one of those powdered wigs. The clothes weren't exactly him neither, he felt awkward and out of place in them.

England didn't seem to notice his discomfort, or chose to ignore it, already knowing America wouldn't be happy. "You look like a true British gentleman." England fixed America's coat one more time before stepping back to admire his work.

The colony had really grown into a handsome boy. England's face quickly heated as he turned away. Thankfully America was far too busy pouting to notice.

"It's warm, why do we have to wear so many layers of clothing anyway." It wasn't really a question as America finally stepped away from the full body mirror. Maybe he would be able to convince England to try and sneak away from the party early. In truth the only thing he liked about those events was the food.

Maybe he should have asked England if he was allowed to bring John with him. Next time he would ask. Maybe with someone he knew it wouldn't be so bad.

He knew England, but knowing the Empire would probably be dragged away to talk with the officials. Or maybe by some of the ladies in the party, as a child he remembered how they would circle him. America didn't want to think about why that bothered him so much.

Maybe it was the fact he wasn't able to hang around him often and when he came to visit something always distracted or kept him busy. Even now it was happening again. England had been around for two days and they still hadn't had a chance to just sit down and talk.

"America we are leaving." The colony turned around to find out that England was already making his way out. He quickly moved to follow after.

The carriage was waiting for them outside, along with a group of soldiers. America didn't understand why they needed a guard. If anyone dared to try anything he was more than capable of protecting them. But England seemed to believe it was necessary.

England was always worrying over small things.

"Isn't this too much? All this men, I mean?" America finally dared to ask when they were both seated and the carriage was moving.

"Huh?" England was startled out of his thoughts. America tried to hold back a giggle after noticing the other's flushed face. "I guess, the Governor was the one who sent them. It doesn't bother me." England also thought it was unnecessary, he could fight better than any of these men. But after many years, he was used to humans sometimes taking these unnecessary precautions.

It was also a way for the governor to show that he had an important guest. Not many people went around with a group of armed British officials. It was just like humans to wish to show off in such a way.

The Governor's home was impressive, even bigger than America's own home, which in comparison to some of the other houses in town was impressive on its own. It had been built under England's own supervision, the best for his care.

People stood in groups talking and showing off the latest fashions in Europe.

America tried to talk to some of the other guests, but he found the subjects boring quickly. In the end America found himself standing outside. He needed the fresh air and to get away from the party for a moment.

The last time he'd seen England, the Empire was been dragged away, with an apologetic look on his face. America did feel sorry for England. But England was the one who had accepted to come, so whatever they did to him, he deserved it.

Without America noticing, someone else walked outside and joined him in the gardens. It wasn't until the other person coughed and said something that America finally turned around in surprise.

"I'm sorry." America's eyes widened when he got a better look of the other person. It was the same woman he had met the previous day. "You." America stepped back in surprise.

The woman simply smiled. She said something, but America didn't really understand it. "Ah." He blushed, knowing he probably looked like a fool with his mouth hanging slightly open.

"Pardonne-moi, forgive me. I thought…" She smiled once more, deep in thought. "It makes sense thought, he hates my language."

The woman was now talking to herself, with only made America feel more confused. While he waited for her to talk he took a better look at her. They were closer now, which meant, he could see now her eyes were indeed purple.

She was pretty. One of the most beautiful women he'd seen in the colonies. She reminded America of one of those painting, England would sometimes show him. But there was also something else, something different. It bothered him that he couldn't place it.

'Ah~" Finally it looked like the woman remembered he was there. "My mind drifts sometimes. I meant to ask, what is such a handsome garçon doing out here by himself."

"I'm not alone…I came with someone." America just didn't exactly know where they were.

"Non, that is much worse. Why would they leave you alone out here?" The woman had moved closer, her hand grabbing his chin. Her fingers were long and pale, but warm against his skin, even with the low temperature. America blushed harder, noticing how close they were.

"I would never do such a thing." She finally ended the distance between them, to brush his lips with her own. America finally regained control of his body and stepped back, hand now over his mouth.

"What…" America's embarrassment only seemed to amuse his companion. She said something else, but this time America was able to understand what of her words. 'Angleterre'. "England."

"Huh." She finally stopped laughing. "So innocent, you are truly Angleterre's child." The woman turned around to leave, but America stepped forward.

"Who are you? How do you know about England?" America wasn't unable to see her face, if he had, he would have seen her smile. "Are you a nation?"

"Petit Amérique, you may call me Francine. Don't worry your mind too much, I assure you, we will be meeting again sooner than you think. But if I may, I will ask you not to tell Angleterre about this meeting." Just as she had come and no different from the previous day, the woman then disappeared, leaving America more confused.

But her name sounded familiar. America was sure he'd heard that name before. He just couldn't remember where.

The American made his way back into the party. But he was unable to see her in there. She probably had left. He was able to find England thought, who looked thankful and happy to see him.

England was dancing with one of the women. He didn't look very comfortable thought as they both swirled around the room. America wondered what it would be like dancing with someone like that, dancing with England. He'd danced with him as a child, England picked him up and swirled him around. But it wasn't the same now that he was taller.

He didn't dare ask.

The image of England faded into that woman, Francine. America blushed, remembering the kiss and shook his head. He didn't want to think about that. He could still remember the feeling of her lips against his own, even if had only been for a brief moment.

By then England had managed to escape the attentions of the young woman. "Are you enjoying yourself?" England moved closer to America.

America nodded, he wasn't enjoying the party. But the meeting he'd just had was something different. Something that had inevitable caught his full attention. He wanted to know more about that woman. He was sure she was a nation now, one he'd met before. He just couldn't exactly place who she was in his mind.

The day outside was beautiful, warm and a clear blue sky. Very different from the weather back in London if what England said was true. It was a perfect day to be outside.

England finally had no plans for the day and America had managed to pull his mentor outside. He would have preferred to go further away from the house. But England hadn't had a chance to rest and the walk would be too much for him. America still planned to have the picnic before England left.

But for now seating outside in the large garden would do. England himself looked after it when he visited his colony. While he was away he had humans look after it. But now that America had grown up, he was the one that took care of it for England. It made him feel good to work with his hands and it kept him busy when he was bored.

"I never had a chance to ask if you enjoyed your gifts?" England placed the cup down as he studied his colony.

"Yes, I always enjoy what you bring me." It had been mostly tea, some books and clothes (that wouldn't fit).

"I'm sorry about the clothes, I knew you had grown, but never imagined it would be this much." England had been forced to give America some of his own, which wouldn't fit for very long since the colony was now taller than him. "I've sent for larger ones, they should arrive with the next shipment."

America smiled at the other, taking a small sip of the tea. While he appreciated the gifts, he wished England wouldn't bother himself so much over them. He wouldn't wear the fancy clothes often, if he wore them at all. He also kept the tea for England and any other guests, rarely drinking it himself.

"Thank you." Yet America couldn't bring himself to say anything to England. He'd tried before and England had ignored him, insisting that it wasn't a bother for him to get America those things.

They finished their tea in silence. They had been talking since the early morning hours. England told him about what went on in Europe, his brothers and even his Government. America told him about the colonies. What he'd done in the past years. England was happy to learn about all of the advances in his studies, with the help of his tutors.

America even told England about his friend John. At that England had looked a bit sad, America knew why. Having human friends was always a risky thing. While nations stayed young, almost immortal for the most parts. Humans aged and died. Having them as friends, made it harder and painful to know that one day they were going to die.

America still remembered the first time that had happened to him. He'd been but a small child back then. He'd become close friends with a small colonial girl. Before her thirteen birthday she had fallen ill and had passed away. After that, he had witnessed many of the townspeople also fall ill and die or just die of age.

Not fully understanding what was happening, America had cried for months, even after England had explained it to him. Yet even now knowing, America couldn't bring himself to distance himself from. Even knowing what the future would bring, he made the best of the present and enjoying his time with them.

"Lord Kirkland, there is someone out here to see you." Both men turned to look at the maid. America started back at England. He had promise that he hadn't made any plans for the day, that they would be spending it together.

England turned to look at his American colony. He already had a look of regret on his face. America frowned, but said nothing. He should have expected it. England never had any time for him anymore. As much as he didn't want to pout like a child, he was unable to stop himself. In the four days England had been visiting him, he'd been around other people more.

"Who is it?" America heard the Englishman ask. But before the maid could answer, someone else joined them.

"Angleterre, it is very ungentlemanly to keep a lady waiting." Even before England turned to look at the person, he recognized the deep accent and high pitched voice.

He turned to glare at the woman who had walked outside to join them in the garden. He heard the maid gasp and then turn to quickly leave. "I don't like to waste my manners on someone like you."

America who had been sitting to across from him and in that moment had also been looking at the woman turned in surprise to loom at England. Not only was he taken by surprise by whom their guest was, he'd never heard England talk like that before. England had made sure of that.

Yet that woman always brought out the worse in him.

"Now, now Mon Cher, There is no need to be like that. I come in good terms after all." The two nations continued to glare at each other, completely ignoring the third one.

It wasn't until America coughed that they seemed to remember he was there. "Mon Dieu, petit Amérique has grown hasn't he." There was gleeful hint in her eyes as she stepped closer, grabbing the colony's jaw and turning his head around as she inspected him.

This caused America to blush and notice the small wink she gave him. On the other had this action quickly angered England, who the pulled the colony away from France's grasp.

"Keep your hands to yourself." England spat out, pulling the American closer to him. Almost like he was afraid France would do something to him.

France smiled at that. "May I at least sit down?"

England sighted. "Fine." He finally said bitterly, it was clear he wasn't happy about it.

England stepped towards the table, still dragging a very confused America with him. He pulled a chair out for France and waited for her to sit down. As much as he disliked his fellow country, he was still very much a gentleman.

"Jane, bring more tea." England finally called at the maid, keeping a close eye on France all the time.

"For me, I would prefer some wine instead." France's attention had switched from England to America. Her looks were almost predatory. England did not like the interest she was showing towards his colony. The protective side of him was quickly taking over.

"Why are you here, France?" France smiled at the Englishman, still not taking her eyes off America.

"Angleterre, you're always right to the point." She finally turned away from America. "But I just wanted to visit an old friend."

"I'm too old for that trick. I knew you too well." England gripped the side of the table, still glaring at the French nation. "But I see that you aren't going to bother with the truth."

"Angleterre has always been very untrusting." France said, ignoring the glaring Englishman and instead focusing on the American. "As a child he was at time unbearable."

"Ah…I…" America blinked a couple of times. He hadn't been paying attention after England had said her name. He knew now why she had looked so familiar.

"I should go." America suddenly spoke up, trying to stand up.

"Non. I'm the one that should be on her way. I just wanted to make sure Angleterre knew I was around." France stood up, just as she was about to leave the maid returned with the drinks. Picking the wine she drank it, putting it back down once she was done.

Her eyes found America's and she gave him an innocent smile, "Au revoir." Neither America nor England missed the small wink she gave them.

"I can't believe that woman, the nerve." England picked his own tea and drank it. But it wasn't enough. England wondered if he had a bottle of rum lying around, he needed something strong. "I'm sorry, that you were forced to see that. That woman just upsets me."

America was tempted to ask about England and France's relationship. Each time England spoke about her, he only had bad things to say.

When America has asked Canada, it had been a very different story. For America this was the first time seen and talking to her since he had first encountered the European nations. It was no wonder he had been unable to recognize her right away after so many years.

"I'm going to find out what she wants." England turned to look at his colonies. "America have you seen France here before."

"Oh?" No, this was the first time." America quickly looked away, unable to hold eye contact with the Empire. He'd never lied to England before.

"England looked at the colony, but said nothing. He began to talk to himself as he left the room.

Once he was gone America breathed out in relief. He hated lying to England. But America wasn't sure what his reaction would be if he found out America had spoken with France.

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**Pardonne-moi – Forgive me.  
Garçon – boy.  
Angleterre – England.  
Petit Amérique – little America.**

**Non - No.  
Au revoir - Goodbye/Till we meet again.** **  
Mon Cher - My Dear.  
Mon Dieu – My god.**

I hope these are close, my French is not the best.


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry, I ended up distracted the last couple of weeks and I just forgot to edit and post these. I'll try to get them up faster. Here are the next two chapters.

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America sat under the large apple tree. It was around midday and the sun was beating down on anyone stupid enough to go outside. Since England was off to some meeting. America had chosen not to go with him. After the last one he knew he would get bored pretty quickly.

Instead the colony focused on working on the garden. But with how hot it was getting, it was time to rest. Maybe wait a few hours and see if things got cooler before starting again. He covered his eyes to keep the sun out. But soon enough America was sure he heard something. It could be just one of the workers passing by. But then someone coughed.

He pulled his hand back to see who it was. In an instant America had jumped to his feet. Sadly the woman before him and the tree to his back blocked his path. Something kept telling him to leave. America was sure that England suspected he had seen France before she had arrived to see him. He hated lying to England about those things.

He didn't want to hate about this too. Plus England had sounded like France wasn't someone she should be around. He never sounded like he had anything good to say about his fellow European nation.

But then something else was pulling America closer, keeping him there from leaving. It was a hint of interest. He rarely had the opportunity to meet with others like him. It was a rare opportunity that may as well not present itself again.

In the end it all came down to the fact if it was worth it or not, to talk to France against England's wishes. America looked at the country right in the eye. Not daring to turn away. England always said it was unwise to give your back to a possible enemy. His people had been at war with her own people. Right now she could easily be one.

"Don't be afraid, I wouldn't dream of hurting you." France's hand went up. Long elegant fingers touched the side of his face, they were warm and soft. For someone reason America didn't flinch away from the touch. Maybe he'd been distracted by the accent and tone of her voice.

France seemed happy with his reaction or the fact he hadn't pushed her away at least. She moved her fingers back, only to replace them with the back of her hand. The hand trailed down his face, then moved down to his neck. She used the other one to trace the other side of America's face.

Her eyes drifted to up and down as she took him in. "When I first came to this land, I said that the personification would hopefully be as lovely and worthy. "I'm happy to say that it is so."

America's face heated up instantly, both because of her words and her closeness. He could smell her perfuse, exotic to him. So different from how England smelled. Feel her breath against his skin. He could even feel the warm from her body.

America tried to regain his voice, trying to ignore how close she was. "Wh…what are you doing?" He stuttered. America tried to look away from France. The way she looked at him made him more nervious and he was afraid he would make more of a fool of himself.

There was a small chuckle right beside his ear. France had noticed the way America's face was now a bright colorful shade of red. America tried to avoid her eyes, her face. Those pink lips nearing his skin.

"There is no need to be shy?" the accent was deeper down. But there was something behind that tone. One he'd heard when some of the less proper women in town talked to the men they liked. When they wanted to sound more….seductive to them or so John had explained.

This realization only made America blush harder. Why would France want to seduce him? "I do wonder if you have ever gotten close to a woman or even another man? By the way you are blushing now. I'm going to take a wild guess and say, no." There was another suckle, softer this time.

The hand on his neck moved down his back. She did it slowly, almost teasingly. It was in the same way she had trailed down his face before, but now she was trailing down his spine. "There is no need to be shy around me?" She said something else, but this time in French. America had no idea what it meant. But for some reason it made him shiver. Maybe it was just because it sounded foreign to his ears.

America had always liked when England spoke in other languages. Usually he only did it when he read to him. With time America would be forced to learn other languages. But for the ones he had learned, French had not been one of them.

There was one finally chuckle from France before she pulled back from him. There was a devious smirk on her face. America thought she was going to do something else. But the other only stepped further away. "You are too cute."

There was no way America was cute. Children were cute and he was not a child. But before he could protest, France once more had moved to claim his mouth in a kiss. But unlike the first time that night. This was not a small peck, but a full on kiss. America didn't even know how she had managed to sneak her tongue inside his mouth.

It was his first kiss. It never felt right to see his own people in such a light. Not even when the opportunity had presented itself, America had been able to do it. It just felt wrong to him. England always kissed him on the head, Canada kissed his cheek and he didn't have contact with anyone else.

When France pulled back America was looking at her, eyes open wide. She licked her lips before turning around. With a small wave she began to walk back to where she'd come from. She probably had a carriage or horse waiting for her somewhere.

America covered his mouth. He could still feel the soft lips there. He could still taste her. It was a sweet taste and there was even a small hint of wine. It was like nothing he had experienced before. He felt warm and he was sure the heat outside had nothing to do with it.

That night he went directly to his room. He couldn't even look at England in the eye without feeling some sense of shame for what had happened. He knew he should tell England about it, the fact that France was still around. But how could he do it? How to explain it without mentioning what had happened. He couldn't say that, no way. England couldn't find out what had happened.

Once he was in bed, he remembered he hadn't eaten anything since that morning. He was hungry, but going downstairs to eat meant seen England. He wasn't sure how long he could keep it to himself. America knew he couldn't avoid England forever. In truth he wanted to be around him.

But maybe after the night passed his nerves would have calmed down. He would be able to forget the encounter. He would forget the feeling of those touches and finally the kiss.

America groaned. Thinking about it wasn't helping at all. It only made him feel embarrassed to be even thinking about such a thing. He felt warm and slightly uncomfortable inside his pants. America covered his eyes once more. Not believing this was happening to him.

* * *

England didn't need America to say anything. He'd been troubled when America had skipped dinner. He had even dropped by his room to ask if anything was wrong. But when he looked inside America was already asleep. It wasn't normal for America to miss anything related to food. But then maybe he was full. It wasn't rare for America to sneak some snacks before eating.

But then his magical friends arrived and told him what had happened that day. At first England couldn't respond. But then every other emotion inside him was over powered by anger.

He couldn't believe what his friends were telling him. But they were creatures of light, pure and kind. They couldn't lie about such a thing. They didn't even have reasons to lie. Once he came to that conclusion, he only ended even more upset.

But he should have known. He should have guessed what that vile woman wanted. She wanted his beloved America. France would never change. But England wasn't going to let her get to America. France had taken things from him. But America was the one thing. He would never let her have.

But then he needed to think of a way to keep her away from America. He knew that once France wanted something, once it was connected to seduction and love, she could get it. She wouldn't stop it until she archived her goals.

The best option was to find a way to keep America from France. But how could he? An idea crossed his mind for a moment. But England tried to shake it away.

He had started to notice the way America had grown. It wasn't just his body growing. But also he was different in other ways. It was almost like he wasn't that small colony of his anymore. He didn't like thinking about to. Growth usually meant colonies wanted to gain their independence. They wanted to break away from their mother country.

England couldn't bear to think of America doing that, leaving him. "But if America loves you, then he won't want to leave you." England gasped. He hadn't even noticed he had said it out loud.

"I can't." England was nothing like France. She was the one who thought about seducing an innocent colony. 'But then America wasn't an innocent little colony. He'd grown. England remembered that age. Soon he would seek others out. Search for the pleasures of the skin.

He was sick. How could he think those things? America wouldn't do that. True, England had been away for a long time. But he was sure he had given America good examples.

He knew it in the end it came down to the fact that it would be France or him.

England preferred it to be him than her. At least he knew he would never hurt America. France would once she found another toy. She had done it in the past.

England knew it from experience.

England hated himself. This was wrong. It had sounded like an almost good idea at first. England couldn't believe he had agreed to try and seduce America. But then he was doing it to keep him away from France. As much as he was against doing it, he was much more against France getting her hands on America.

That was the only reason why he wanted to do it.

England knew he was lying to himself. It was something he hated to admit. But he couldn't deny it forever. America was handsome, very attractive. Even without France around, something told him he would have done something similar. Maybe he would have waited to do it for far longer. Or maybe he would have kept those feelings to himself.

But the fact that France was showing too much interest meant he had to move fast. England walked towards America's room. He was ready to knock, but something kept him from doing. His consciousness still wouldn't let him.

America no matter how attractive he was. Into what sort of man he grew was still his colony. His job was to protect America. It wasn't to try and seduce him. That was wrong. He wasn't France or Spain.

Could he really go through with it? Could England really have something with his own colony? England didn't think he could. It wasn't something unusual. Colonizers had fallen for their colonies and vice versa. England still wasn't sure he could do it.

He also feared the fact that America would hate him if he found out what England wanted to do. America could return his feelings. But then America could also be disgusted by the idea. Did America view him as a sort brother or just a mentor?

Then there were England's own feelings. He'd been taken back by America's grow. It was impossible to look at him in the same way he did that small colony. England never referred to America as a brother because of his bad relationship with his actual brothers. But he still remembered that small colony. How could he look at America as his colony and as a man?

"England?" America opened his door, only to find England standing there. America had to admit that England had been acting weird lately. Sometimes he would even avoid America.

America couldn't deal with all the weirdness going around. First France had tried to seduce him and the England went around avoiding him. It gave him a headache just thinking about it. Maybe there was something wrong with the food and water back in Europe. All they were all going crazy with age.

It didn't make it better that it hurt America to think that England would avoid him. England was important to America. He always waited with anticipation for his visits. Now that he was here England wanted to ignore him.

America started to believe England knew of his lie and was angry with him. Guilt was slowly eating away at him. He didn't know for how long he would be able to go without confessing. Maybe if he said something England would go back to talking to him.

But then maybe England was upset over something else. If America did say something, England would really hate him. Once more the headache was back. America never had a need to think things over so much. Usually he just went with whatever his gut told him. Right now it was as confused as he was.

England opened his mouth to talk, but instead he turned around and walked away. With a sight America closed his door. He needed a drink.

America went to search for his human friend. John sat across from his not talking until America as done talking. Finally America finished explained what had happened in the past few days.

"So you are upset because a beautiful woman tried to seduce you?" John shook his head, not understanding what was wrong with that. He probably would have given everything for a woman to give him a second glance.

America frowned. It wasn't like that at all. "E…Arthur hates her. They don't get along at all. If he finds out I even spoke to her, I'm dead."

John didn't know England that well. Last time England had visited him, John was only 4 years old. Now it had been over 12 years. But he had heard many stories from America to know of England's dislike for the French.

Yet the colonists were not as crazy about the French. They were after all also part of the Empire, British men and women. They had fought the French and if needed would fight them again.

"Maybe it's best if you talk to Arthur." America thought this over. He preferred England finding about it from him than anyone else. Maybe John had a point.

"I guess."

America stayed out of the house until nightfall. At least he was grateful for the fact he hadn't crossed paths with France again. When he walked inside the help were gone already. England wasn't in the first floor, which meant he was either out or in his room.

America knocked and opened without waiting for a reply. England was sitting on the bed. His shirt was off and it looked like he was tending some injury. "England…"

The Empire turned around to look at America. "Come in lad." America nodded and walked inside. England picked his nightshirt, putting it on.

"I saved you some food."

"I already ate." John's parents had invited him for supper. He liked their food and it gave America more time to think.

"Is there something you want?" America noticed the way England wasn't looking at him. It hurt a lot more he would ever be willing to admit.

"I—I lied to you." England finally turned to fully take a good look at America. "I met France in a pub the day I went with you to that meeting. Then I saw her again, a day go. But I didn't search for her."

When America looked up again, England was standing in front of him. When his hand moved up America flinched, expecting a smack or something like that. But instead England polled him into a hug. "Thank you."

"You aren't mad?"

England's hold tightened. "I am, but not at you."

When England pulled away he noticed how close they were. America was now the same height as he was, even slightly taller. Their noses in their closeness almost touched. Both their faces heated up as they stepped back.

"Can I stay with you tonight?" It had been a while since America had slept with England. England seemed to think this over for a moment, but ended up blushing even more than before.

"I don't think that's a good idea." America's face fell.

"I guess I should leave for my room then." America turned around. He was too big for such a thing anyway. He didn't even know why he had asked.

England watched America leave. He wished he could have said yes. He hated to look at America and not see a smile on that face. America's smile was one of the few things he always looked forward to the most. It hurt him to think he was the reason why that smile disappeared.

But he couldn't say yes to that request. Deep inside he wanted to accept. But how much control he would have with America so close. Just having America close made him wonder how good it could be to kiss those soft lips.

England sat back on his bed. He needed to sleep it off. Hopefully tomorrow he would finally receive his order. He had made sure that it would be there as soon as possible. He was looking forward to giving it to America. He was sure they would fit him well.

When America woke up the next morning England was nowhere to be found. He probably had received an important message or something. England never disturbed America when he had to leave early. As a child America had hated it when England wouldn't do it.

Mainly he would do it because his ships always left in the early hours of the morning and it would mean America didn't have a chance to say goodbye. America then began to find ways to wake up just before England could sneak away.

It was almost suppertime when England was finally back and called for him. "America?"

America had been upstairs looking over some books. Because England's stay he had been ignoring home of his work. His tutor wouldn't be happy and would only make America work even more. Once he was done with the daily activities, he decided to try and get at least something done.

It wasn't working that well. He kept thinking about other things and not what he was reading. He heard England's steps as he walked closer. England first sneaked his head inside to make sure America was there. "I have something for you."

'Huh?' England only brought gifts when he arrived. He brought them from his own country or some of the other colonies. Rarely did he buy anything for him while he stayed with America. When he bought anything it was to take back with him.

America didn't need to be told twice. A gift was a gift. Though he was prepared for what England had for him. A suit. America looked at the garment over and over. While England brought him clothes. It had been a while since he had worn anything so fancy. He used to dress like that as a child. But now he preferred simpler clothes that weren't as stuffy.

"This is…too fancy for me." It wasn't him at all.

"Don't be silly, it fits you perfectly." England walked around America, inspecting the clothes. "You look like a proper gentleman now. Plus you should dress properly. You are the personification of this land. When you are with me and others, you have to look your best."

"I guess I can use it for fancy occasions." Not that he attended that many. But hopefully he would only need to wear it when England visited. It would make England happy and that was worth it.


	4. Chapter 4

France had noticed England walking around town more. By his side an unsure America. She found it a bit amusing how overprotective the Englishman could be. He probably by then knew that France had her eyes on little America. Of course England's overprotectiveness could easily be his fall.

France wasn't only keeping an eye on America. But she was also watching the people. These colonists, they enjoyed their freedoms. They wouldn't want limitations, others telling them what to do without their approval. America shared their spirit. France had seen it in his eyes, the need to open his wings and fly off. It was something that England would never give him.

The moment America would arrive to that conclusion, not even England would be able to hold him back. She felt sorry for England. Without knowing it he would bring that distance between his colony and him. But then this was a game of love and they both wanted the same thing.

All was fair in love and war. England's weaknesses could turn into her strengths. England pushing America away, could bring him closer to her. She smiled to herself before taking a sip from her wine. Inside the carriage England couldn't see her. But she had a feeling he knew.

He kept looking around. France could almost see his emerald eyes glimpsing over every passerby and carriage.

France was more than tempted to leave hers and pay him a quick visit. But after their last meeting she wasn't sure if it would be a good idea. As fun as it was to mess with England and see him fume. She also didn't want to start another war over it. It was safer to work from the shadows at least for now.

Once the other two nations walked out of view France returned to her room. Sadly it was about time for her to return to Europe. England's time in the colonies was also almost up. But she would make sure to be back in the colonies as soon as she was able to do it.

* * *

It was weird. He was trying to now avoid England. True he'd been upset when England seemed to not want to talk to him. When he acted like he was upset.

But lately it was weirder. England kept looking at him strangely. When he went out he also made America accompany him. Even to the boring meeting. It was almost like he was afraid to leave him alone. America enjoyed the attention. But there was something wrong. It was all too sudden. Plus it didn't help that it had all started after he had talked about France.

America could sometimes miss a few things. But he wasn't completely blind. The way England was acting was out of character for him. Even America could pick up on those changes.

Was he just doing it because of France? America wished it weren't truth. He had chosen England over France as a child. Did England really think he would change his mind and chose France now?

This hurt America a lot. That England didn't trust him. That he would even think about such a thing. America prayed that he was just reading things wrong. That he was mistaken.

America turned around after hearing England cheer. Stepping closer to the room he picked inside. England was sitting, cup of tea in hand and smiling. It almost sounded like he was talking to someone. But there was no one else in the room. When England turned around, America gasped stepping away.

He almost ran back to his room. He was pretty sure England hadn't seen him. When England didn't knock after a while, America finally allowed himself to relax. He hadn't seen England look so happy and relaxed in a while. Even when he smiled before there was always something else there. America shrugged it off. Seen England smile like that could mean he was finally going to be back to normal.

America's happiness didn't last for long. That night he learned England was leaving back for Europe. Even when England reassured him that he would visit soon, America's mood remained the same. That's what England had said the last time he'd visited. It had taken years before England actually decided to visit again.

For the first time America didn't bothered to wake up early to say goodbye to his mentor.

_**October, 1763. Six months later.**_

America finally returned to his home late that night. Feeling tired and ready to drop and sleep for the next couple of years. He had promised himself no tears. It wasn't the first time something like this had happened. But the lost a good friend still hurt. No matter how many times he told himself that it would come one day.

He had known John since he'd been but a small toddler. America had witnessed his grow. They had shared lots of moments. America had confided in him things that he probably wouldn't have shared with just any human.

America wiped away the tears. He'd promised his friend he was going to be strong. At least it had been a quick death. He'd fallen ill only two weeks ago.

America wished England was there. He was so much better at dealing with this sort of thing. But England was back in Europe. Or maybe he was visiting another colony. What was important was that England wasn't there.

"Lord Jones, there is someone here to see you." America turned around. He hadn't been expecting anyone. But it could be one of John's relatives.

When he walked inside the room he was surprised to see who it was. "France?"

"Francine, call me Francine love." America still couldn't understand what she was doing there. "I'm not here as a nation, but as a friend. One that I'm sure you need right now."

Part of America told him that this was bad, wrong even. England wouldn't be happy. But then England wasn't there, France had a point he needed a friend. He needed someone to talk to. Right then, anyone would do. Even better a fellow nation that could understand what he was facing.

America found himself nodding. Before he knew it he was sitting across from France. The Frenchwoman poured some wine into a cup and handled it to him. Looking down at the liquid America smiled. "England would have a heart attack if he found out." He still drank the liquid never less. It tasted a lot better that he had expected.

"I once lost a close friend." France began. "We were very close. I was forced to watch her execution. It was without doubt one of the worse days of my life."

"I'm sorry." It was the only thing America could think of saying.

France smiled. "Don't be, it made me stronger. You see America we grow to accept that death it is just part of like. We accept it. But feeling that pain, keeps you alive. You should never detach yourself out of fear of getting hurt."

America said nothing. He didn't even ask how France knew. "England told me the same thing once."

'England understands that pain. He has lost his own share of friends. He was extremely close to Elizabeth." France sipped from her drink. "But now he tends to keep people at arm's length. He's afraid to love again."

Was France talking about Queen Elizabeth? Or was she talking about someone else. "Were you and England together?"

France stared at America for a full minute before she finally ended up laughing. "I don't think there is anyone in Europe that hasn't been with another fellow country yet." Noticing America's blush she laughed once more. "It is very different from the New World. You guys are still pure and young, nothing like us in the Old World."

"Forgive me. I'm not here for my own needs, but yours. Drink up!" France poured more wine into the American's cup.

She later helped the maid with America. Taking him to his room and lying him down. He couldn't handle his alcohol. He was so young after all. America looked even better like that.

Face a lovely shade of red, messy hair and sweating. But even France knew her limits. There was no fun in jumping America when he wouldn't even notice or remember it. If she was going to have hi, it would be a lot more special than that.

For the upcoming week, America found himself around France more. She was charming and funny. She was very different from England. She was also, surprisingly, very differently from how England had described her. She was very flirtatious. But America was almost used to the various comments. He just still blushed in embarrassment from time to time.

But overall, it was more enjoyable than not. She seemed to have a deep interest in his people too, in the colonies and the growing citizens. America couldn't deny he enjoyed talking about them. He was proud of their accomplishments. Part of him enjoyed the attention.

The only thing that bothered him was the fact that he was going against England's wishes. England had forbidden any contact with the Frenchwoman. But, America was starting to like hanging around France. He liked it a lot more than he would have imagined. It wasn't just the attention. But the fact he was talking with another country. One that could understand what he went through.

It could get lonely in the colonies. When he couldn't talk with his brother, Canada was busy in his own country. Those times were they could travel to see each other were far in between and short. Seen England was much harder. Letters were fine at all. But it wasn't the same as having actual physical contact.

There were questions he wanted to ask. Things he wanted to know. England rarely talked about the things he did when he was away. Sometimes he would visit after a war. Injured and still wouldn't tell America what had happened. He rarely spoke about his siblings. When he did talk, it was mostly about how much he disliked them.

America hadn't even visited England's home country. He'd only seen it in paintings and books. While England knew his home, knew him, America knew very little about the Englishman. One his favorite things about hanging around France, was finding more about England.

Even though their relationship was extremely sour, the two of them knew a lot about each other. America had hundreds of questions to ask, questions that France –unlike England- did not avoid answering. America had found out more about England I the past week, than in all the previous years.

He was happy to find out, that the sometimes grumpy nation, was not that much different. Sometimes they would talk for hours. Without America even noticed how much time went by. He hadn't talked with anyone in such a way, since John had fallen ill. Even then, there were things he couldn't talk with his old friend.

America had to stop walking. They came across a group of men, which seemed to be discussing loudly something. It wasn't easy making out what they were saying. "I wonder what happened."

"I think we should find another route, they don't look happy about whatever it is." America nodded. They really didn't. But he also wanted to find out what they were discussing. Still he wasn't going to leave France. No matter how curious he felt.

They continued to talk. The men disappeared from America's mind then. His focus drifted back to France's stories about England and the other countries. By the time the night had fallen, America was ready for a long night rest.

It wasn't until he was only a few feet away from his home, that he noticed something wrong. There were unfamiliar horses waiting there. America hurried there, worried that something had happened.

The moment he made it inside, he was welcomed by a warm embrace. America almost lost his balance. The other person moved back and America was surprised to learn it was his Northern brother. "Canada?"

"We've been worried." Canada's accent was as deep as ever. The French still notable. But then, it hadn't been that long since Canada had become an English colony.

"We?" America looked at his 'twin'.

Canada nodded in response. "England and I arrived hours ago. Only to find out, no one knew of you whereabouts." America never said where he was. Worried that England would find out about his little encounters with France. If he had known that they were visiting—they were visiting.

England! England was there. When England had said that he was going to try and visit as soon as possible. America admitted to himself, he really hadn't believed him. He'd said the same thing many times before.

"Alfred!" America looked up. England was standing on top of the stairs. The concern evident in his features, made America feel even guiltier about what he'd been doing.

England was fats on his feet. In an instant -just like Canada- he had him pulled into a hug. "Where were you? You had all of us worried sick."

"I'm sorry I went into town." England moved back. There was a slight frown.

"We had people look for you, all over town. Why didn't you tell anyone where you were going?" America tried to think of an excuse. Truthfully he tried to walk alongside France in the lesser busy parts of town. Not wanting any of England's men to see them.

"I forgot." Canada was the one to sight.

"That's just like you Alfred. Making all of us worry."

"Why didn't you write?" They were to blame to, showing up without notifying him first. He would have prepared for their visit, if only he had known.

"That's my own fault," Canada began, "when I received your letter about John, I to England right away. We decided to visit you as soon as possible."

America took that in. But then by Canada's words, that meant England had been visiting Canada at the time. It made America wonder why Canada hadn't written to him about it. Why hadn't England written to tell him he was visiting Canada? America wasn't sure why that ended up hurting him. But part of him was very disappointed.

"I'm really glad you guys are here. But it was a long day. I really have to take an early leave." England and Canada exchanged looks. But America wasn't looking at them to notice. "We can talk tomorrow." Before they could stop him, America was running up the stairs.

He heard them call after him. But right now he wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone. Once inside his room, America could only feel stupid. He'd been hoping to see England for days now. He hadn't seen Canada for months. He should have been happier.

America stayed in bed. At some point England came to check on him, but he didn't stir. Even after he was gone he stayed there.

When he found out sleep wouldn't come. America finally decided to leave his bed. He pulled the window open. He took in the fresh air. In such a late hour it was cold. America pulled a heavy coat out. Using the window to support himself, he grabbed into the branch of the tree. He quickly made his way down into the ground. He'd done it enough times, to not even break a sweat.

America looked up at his open window. He was taking a huge risk. But something wouldn't leave him alone. He needed someone to talk about it. He didn't want to risk a change of mind. He made he was into town as fast as he could.

This wasn't one of his best ideas. For all he knew, she wasn't there. Or maybe was doing something. But right know she was the only person he could think of coming to.

It was a bit ironic. Months back he wouldn't have dreamed about going to a French person for help, especially not the personification of that country. Now she was the one he would turn to, even when England was there. He was probably going mad.

The door finally opened, revealing a sleepy looking France. America blushed the moment he noticed her attire. Of course, at this hour everyone was sleeping. "America?"

"I'm sorry." America felt his face heat even more. He used his had to cover his eyes. But he still remembered how she looked in his head. The image wouldn't go away. It was only making matters worse. "I didn't know."

"Don't worry about it mon amour. Come inside." America still wouldn't move, still covering his face with his hands. France grabbed his upper arm and pulled him inside. America heard her laugh and felt even more embarrassed. "Don't be shy; I'm not when it comes to my body."

France pulled his arms back. When America looked at her she was still smiling. "Now, tell me why you are here." America sighed. But he told France everything. When she spoke again there was a slight disappointed in her voice. But America was completely oblivious.

France still managed to smile. "It is natural to sometimes feel jealous. To know that someone's attention isn't fully on you. That he's thoughts aren't always on you. He has other charges."

"I feel like I'm such a small part of his life. You know so many things about him. Things I could have never dreamt about." It had been such a silly thing. America had believed he'd been the closest thing England had. He'd thought that they shared everything. But England hadn't shared that much with him.

"Don't. We are very old. I don't think any of us truly knows each other completely." France touched the side of America's face. The touch was warm and soft. "Believe me when I say, he cares for you. He's just not very good at showing it." America smiled. But the quickly began to blush again. France was terribly close now.

He could almost feel the warm radiating from her body. The perfume that she wore was overwhelming. America wasn't sure which of them moved first. But somehow they both ended up kissing. It was a lot better than he remembered, softer and sweeter.

When they pulled back, America tried to regain his breath. By the look France was giving him, America was afraid he'd been the one to start it. "I—"

"Hush." France shook her head. She fixed some of the stands of hair that had come loose. "Don't worry your mind over that." Her hand moved to the back of his neck, using them to bring America closer. They kissed again. But this time France was the one to lead. It was a lot less clumsy than the previous one.

France continued to kiss him. But her hands moved everywhere, touching his face and hair. When she pulled back she smiled down at him. At one point through it all America had ended up lying on the bed, where they had been sitting on previously. France licked her lips. But this time, instead of going for his lips she attacked his neck. America groaned, slowly falling apart under the touch.

He wanted to touch her. But part of him was afraid. Afraid of doing something wrong, this wasn't something he was experienced in. France didn't seem to mind too much. Actually it almost looked like she was enjoying the fact she was leading. When her lips began to move down his collarbone America had to close his eyes. Slender fingers moved down to remove his shirt. Giving France more skin to kiss and suck.

Each time America would moan, she would smile into his skin. France said something in French. America wouldn't understand what it was. But it still made him blush.

With his eyes closed America could still imagine how France looked as she explored more and more of his body. Her pink lips, her even messier hair. But then the figure in his mind began to change. It wasn't France anymore. It was England. But instead of an angry, disappointed England, which America would have expected. He was smiling down at America.

England began to remove his short and crawl up his body. He took America's lips in the same way France had previously done. America's eyes flew open. He jumped backwards so fat he slipped and fell down from the bed, hitting the wooden floor with a loud thud. When he looked up he was met with France's concerned face.

"I think—I think I should go." America fixed his shirt and coat and quickly hurried out of the room. His arousal was completely gone. His mind was even more of a mess now. How could the image of a perfectly willing France, turn into one of a –perfectly willing- England.

How could he even think of England in such a way? England was England. Those weren't images he wanted to connect with the English nation. He decided to blame it on the fact he'd been thinking about England before it had started. That had to be the answer. It had to be. America cursed even more when he noticed morning was approaching already.

He hadn't even noticed how much time he'd been with France. He had to hurry and make it back before anyone decided to check on him. But part of him dreaded to be back in his home, to face England. Not only because of the fact he'd been talking to France. But how could he face England after that image?


	5. Chapter 5

_There is only one chapter written after this. It's a lot longer so it might take me longer to look over it. But it's also the last one. Unfortunately, like I mentioned on the first chapter, this story remains incomplete. _

* * *

England kept turning on the bed, something about America's reaction to seen them kept bothering him. America only went to bed early when he was upset. He never ignored them. Truthfully when Canada or he visited he did his best to stay up for as long as possible. Something had to be bothering America for him to have reacted in a way it was unlike him.

That same thing was now bothering England. More so because he didn't know what it, that meant he couldn't even help with it. Tired turning around in the bed wasn't helping. England ended up sitting on it, book in hand. But even then he couldn't focus on the words. America's discomfort affected him deeply. With France gone, he'd thought everything was done with.

But America never left his mind. Someone of the thoughts connected to the colony were ones he wasn't exactly proud. They were thing that he shouldn't be connecting with his beloved colony. He was starting to act like Spain and France. He had thought about talking to Austria. But part of him was even more ashamed about someone finding out about his feelings. It was bad enough knowing he had them.

England decided that sleep was out of the question. He was tempted to go to America. He really wanted to talk to him. America had suffered the loss of a good friend. He was still young and when humans around him died, he was still affected more so than older nations. But America was probably sleeping and England wanted to let him rest. Canada after their trip here also needed his own rest.

England finally decided on just roaming the house for a bit. At least until someone woke up and he had someone to talk to. England tried to make as little noise as he could as he left his room. To his right was the other guest room, the one Canada used during his visits. To his left, America's., the one he had to pass through too get to the other side of the house.

Just as he was passing this one, England was sure he could almost hear something from inside. He turned around, walking closer towards the door. He pulled back for a moment to open it. That's when he noticed the window, open. That was strange, last time he had checked ion America it had been close. America only left his window open during the hot summer months. But during the winter, he always made sure to keep it close.

But the sound wasn't coming from the room itself, but from outside. England walked inside, now he had a better look of the room. Thanks to the moonlight he noticed that the room was missing something or better yet someone. America was gone.

There was a loud curse from the window. Without even looking England knew who it was. The only thing in his mind at the moment was a simple question, why? Why America had sneaked away like that?

America didn't notice there was someone else in the room until he was halfway inside. When he looked up his eyes widened almost comically. He almost slipped and lost his balance. But England was by his side, helping him back inside into the room. America gave him a half muffed thanks. The colony kept looking towards the floor, avoiding looking at England.  
There was a lot England was tempted to say. None of it was good. Now close to America he could almost make out a distinctive perfume. One he was acquaintance with and disliked as much as the person that chose to wear it. He wasn't able to be close to America without smelling that scent. Slowly he stepped away. He looked at America and then towards the window.

"England—"America began. But England wasn't sure he wanted to listen to anything he had to say right now. More so, he wasn't sure if he was going to like it.

"Don't, just go to bed America." England turned away from him and walked closer to the door. He was feeling a lot more tired now than he'd felt in weeks. He wanted this to be a miserable nightmare. But he knew it wasn't. America had gone to France. He had slipped off into the night to her, instead of staying with England and Canada. It was a betrayal, England never would have expected from him.

"You're never here." England stopped on his tracks. "She was, when I needed someone the most. She's not as bad as you make her to be."

"That's how she works. She tricks you into trusting her and then stabs you in the back." She enjoyed the hunt as much as the victory. But America was still too young to understand that. He had ignored England's warnings. England had done everything possible in his power to keep America from her. He had kept a close eye on France, forgetting to keep a closer one on America.

He should have known that France's tricks would have worked on someone like America quick. America was still young country, one that still didn't know how cruel and tricky other nations could be. But England wasn't going to give up so easily. He wouldn't let France the only thing she still hadn't completely tainted with her touch.

"America, I want you to promise me you won't ever go to see that woman." England finally turned around to look at his colony. He was hoping that America would see reason in his words. That he would be smart enough to accept that France was dangerous.

America's frown deepened. "You can't ask me to promise you that. England, I'm not a child. I can look after myself. But I need to have contact with others like me. You have no right to keep me from that."

"You have me and Canada." America laughed at that.

"Canada, I love him. But he's still well rather boring sometimes. He has also his own country to look after. You are rarely ever here. Plus, I want to get to know the others too. One day, I'll be a country of my own after all." England was the one to laugh at that.

"If you keep doing this, the only other thing you'll be is a French colony." England did turn around this time, leaving the colony's room.

America cursed to himself. Getting out was so easy. But getting back inside was another thing entirely. He hoped no one would hear him. But the moment he was almost inside. When he finally looked inside his room, all hope was lost. England was there, looking at him with the most disappointing look America had ever seen before.

For a moment he lost his balance. But England was there to help him inside. There were a thousand explanations running through his mind. But he doubted England would believe any of them. The truth would probably hurt him more than anything else.

But he still wanted to say something. England moved away from him. When he spoke, America knew that there was no need for him to say anything. England knew. He wanted to explain his reasons. But England wouldn't listen. To England he would always be that kid that needed looking after. America didn't bother to story and stop England again when he left the room.

It didn't help his situation that he couldn't look at England without blushing. He still couldn't understand what had happened with France. Why he had thought of England like that?

He remembered during those first embarrassing years. Sometimes during dreams, dreams he had no control over, England would sometimes appear. But he had blamed it on the fact that England was the only other 'adult' country he knew at the time. It made sense he would think of him.

But he'd been with France. She was what anyone would give anything for a chance to be with. He should have been thinking about her. But the moment had been completely ruined. He couldn't even look at her now. Not without thinking about what had happened.

There needed to be an explanation. Maybe he'd thought of England because he felt guilty. He could be feeling guilty that he had sneaked away with England in the house. That he'd been seen France for days, knowing that England wouldn't approve of it, that he would be against it. That along with what had been going on had turned into an embarrassing mix.

America tried to ignore a second explanation. Maybe what had happened had something to do with something else. Maybe part of him wanted to try something like that with England. America laughed. That sounded crazy. Even if there was some truth in that, it couldn't happen. It was never going to happen.

There was no chance of that happening now more than ever. Now that England, without doubt, hated him. He had messed up big time. He didn't want his need to know more nations, ruin his relationship with England. England was the most important person in his life. True, America wished that England would visit more often, but every little moment with him was more important than the months apart.

He needed to find a way to fix it. Even if it meant ne needed to end all relations with France. America was ready to go to England's room when Canada walked inside. The look of worry on his brother's face, made America stop on his tracks.

"Did something happen? England took a horse and left, he looked really angry." Canada looked America. "Please, tell me you didn't do anything stupid."

America frowned. He wanted to follow England. He didn't want him finding and doing something to France because of him. Their relationship was bad enough as it was. But then, England couldn't know where France was. America was sure he hadn't even known she was in the colonies. He didn't want to risk it anyway.

"We need to find him." America ran out of the room, he didnlt need to look back to know Canada was close on his tracks. It was good thing Canada was there. If anything he could stay with France.

* * *

England was tired of waiting. If he could keep America from France, he would make sure that France would stay away from him. His grip on the reins tightened.

Finding where she was staying wasn't that difficult. He only needed to find the most expensive place in town. France had a need to live in high luxury. She liked to show off around everyone else. She enjoyed the attention, to be admired and loved.

He knocked hard against her room door. Soon enough the door was opened. She didn't look surprised to see him there. Actually it looked almost like he had been expecting him. She simply smiled at him and stepped back. "England, so nice to see you, but I have to say you look as terrible as ever."

"Stay away from my colonies." England made sure to mention all of them. He didn't want France around Canada.

"Your colonies are more than able to choose that for themselves." France walked towards the bed. She picked a bottle of wine and poured some into two glasses. She picked one and offered it to England. But he quickly declined it. She simply shrugged and drank from it.

"They can't see your tricks. They are sadly, still not familiar with them." Maybe he should have tried harder. It was a blame that would befall to him. But it was a mistake that he was going to fix.

"You are terribly dramatic. You know very well, I would hurt him—them." France picked the other glass. "It may be hard to believe, but I'm capable of caring for people." She looked at England and then added, "Just like I cared for you."

"You wanted my land. Just like everyone else, you just wanted to invade me." It was something England had grown to accept.

France shook her head. "One day you are going to have to start trusting others. Not everyone is out to get you."

England snorted. "We are nations, that's the only thing we know about. That's the only thing that matters to us, everything is about power."

"Is that how you feel about America?" England was taken aback by the question.

"No!" How could France believe that? "America— he's different." He chose me. He added inside his head. He chose England over even France. "That's why you can't have him."

"You can't keep him caged forever. For now he's yours, but every bird needs to fly away from the nest." France took a sip from her drink. England wanted to say something else. But at that moment they were both interrupted.

America and Canada arrived just then.

"France." Canada was surprised to see his old mentor then. France seen her old colony only smiled. She stepped forward to hug him. But England stepped between them.

"We are leaving."

America hadn't stopped talking, more like yelling, to England since they had left France. England remained silent, only focusing on the path ahead. At one point Canada tried to calm his brother down. But the American colony ignored him completely. Finally noticing the England wasn't going to say anything he stopped talking all together. The rest of the trip was tense.

When they arrived England asked Canada to prepare some tea. The colony nodded and left for the kitchen. This left America and England alone.

America decided to try again. "I don't see why you are so upset over this. Just because you can't get along with her, I shouldn't. She's kind and she's helped me a lot." She'd been around more often than England even. Not that America was going to say that out loud. "France has been a good friend."

England turned around. "You are just friends, really? I don't believe that. I know her better than that." England moved forward. He almost grabbed America, but instead he moved his hands back down to rest by his side.

America ended up blushing, his mind drifted to what had happened earlier. "Of course we are just friends. Why would you think otherwise?" America hoped that England would believe him. If he found out what had happened between them. That would realty make things messy.

"You're lying." England said it as a matter of fact. "You're blushing." America silently cursed. "What truly hurts me the most is the fact that you lie to me. That you went against my wishes is one thing, but to go and lie about it. She probably asked you to lie about."

"She didn't." America protested. He had made his choices and he was responsible for them. America wasn't a child. He could make his own decisions, even if England found that hard to believe. "If you have to be angry, be angry with me."

England looked at America. Did time he did touch the colony Planted both hands on each side of America's face. "I can't do that. I can't be angry at you."

"England." There was something England wasn't saying. America wished he knew what it was. There were things about England that he would never describe. Since his last visit even more than usual. "England…" America said again.

England was so close now. But he wasn't saying anything. He was only looking at America. It was almost like he was studying him. One of England's hands drifted downwards, to touch his chin. He used this one to life America's face upwards. America wanted to look away from the intensity of those green eyes. But he found himself unable to.

It wasn't because the grip was tight and wouldn't allow him. It actually wasn't. But it was almost like his body didn't want to. He wanted to keep looking at England. He wanted to know England better, get himself lost inside those deep eyes. America started to feel warm again. America was probably blushing now, his face a deep shade of pink.

"I wanted it to be you. I hate to be alone…and you are never here. If you aren't, why can't I go to other nations?" America confessed. He wasn't sure why he was telling England this. But it was the true and it felt like the thing he needed to say. He wanted to get to know others. But above anything else, he wanted to know England better.

America could feel England's breath against his face. England moved slightly closer, before pulling black. His face colored slightly, but America missed this. England was already walking to the other side of the room. Canada decided to join them at that moment.

He placed the tea down and waited for one of them to move. Neither did at first. England was the first to give in. He picked his cup and sat down.

America looked between the other two in the room. He then turned around and left for his room. He had a sudden urge to be by himself. Today turned out to be a stressful day for him. Settling on the bed he focused his eyes on the ceiling above. To think that he had hoped for England to visit him, it would have been a lot better if he hadn't.

At least all of this would have been avoided.

"He can be so immature." England began to ramble to himself. Canada only nodded and tried to focus his attention towards the cup in his hand. He couldn't pick a side on this, so he was hoping that they wouldn't ask him to.

Thankfully England seemed content to be talking to himself. He continued to do so for a while. Canada was tempted to leave and check on America. But he doubted his brother wanted to talk to anyone right now. He wished that America would have talked to him tough. Maybe America didn't trust him.

"I always thought it would be you." It took Canada second to notice that England was talking to him. "That she would go after you, you were her colony after all. But then, she knows that you already know her. You wouldn't fall for her tricks."

Canada wasn't sure how to respond to that. He'd been angry at France when she abandoned him, gave him to England. But he'd moved past that. It wasn't worth it. England wasn't that bad. He could be a bit strict, but nothing that bothered Canada.

"I guess I should talk to him. He's still so young. I know he's just doing this to rebel against him. He is just trying to get attention." England said something else, whispered it actually.

He was probably right. Canada could imagine America doing something foolish like that. If only he knew how much it was hurting England. If it had been someone else, he doubted the feelings would be the same. But the fact that he'd gone to France was the real reason why he was so affected by it.

Canada waited for England was gone before standing up. He decided to walk towards America's room. Taking a peek inside, he confirmed that his brother was still awake. Walking inside he sat beside him on the bed.

"England is fuming mad." America didn't answer. "I don't understand why you did it. But I'm sure you had your reason, I won't judge you. England and France have," Canada coughed, "a long history."

America turned to look at Canada. "France used to tell me stories." Canada explained. "He's afraid that she's going to take you away." When America didn't respond Canada lay down beside him.

"Do you like her?" Canada asked after a while.

America moved besides him. "I don't know. I really don't know what I'm feeling right now. I want to be around her, but I also want to be around England." America was going to have to choose at one point. Canada had a feeling that America was aware of that.

"You should get some sleep. I'll stay by you if you want." Canada offered.

America moved once more. Now he was facing towards Canada. "I think I'm going to take you on that." America grabbed Canada's hand. They used to do this when Canada was allowed to stay with America. Back when they'd been just children. Back then, when America had been too scared to sleep alone and England wasn't around.

When England was around America always chose his bed. Then he would cry because England went to sleep right away. He would end up dragging Canada into the room too.

"Thanks." America looked at Canada. "For not judging me, I mean. I know you aren't very happy with France either."

"She did things for me that I'm grateful." Canada shrugged. "Just don't tell England that. I don't think he could handle it."

"I wouldn't." America smiled, giving Canada a small wink. "I wouldn't want England to be mad at you too." America stopped talking for a moment. "I think, I think I need to think about what you said." America closed his eyes and said nothing more.

Soon enough his body relaxed. By his breathing patter Canada could tell he was asleep. He'd really been tired. Canada doubted he'd slept at all. Soon enough it would be morning, if the sun wasn't already out.

When England looked inside America's room, he found the colony sleeping besides his northern brother. England closed the door and walked towards his room.

This was his fault. If he'd gone through with his plans, this wouldn't have happened. America wouldn't have gone to France. She had seduced him. America was growing. His body was changing. He was starting to be attracted to others. France had used that to get to him.

She'd done the same with England.

But England couldn't bring himself to do that. Even when his mind went to those dark places, he was stronger like that. He could control himself. Back then he'd been even more tempted because it would keep France away. But he'd believed that America would be smart enough to stay away.

_Maybe playing France's game was the only way. Making America's his could be the only way to stop him from going to her. Beautiful, innocent America._

"I can't." America was innocent. England didn't want to destroy that innocent. There was a war going on inside his head. The part of him that wanted to keep America innocent, who couldn't even begin to imagine doing something like that with him. Then there was the other part of him. A part that, England had to admit, had a very vivid imagination, a part that was also giving him some valid reasons.

Maybe England was underestimating America. He needed to stop thinking of him as an innocent colony, the same one they had found in those fields years ago. Start thinking of him more as the young man he was growing to be.

A very handsome young man, he repeated to himself.

No wonder France had taken notice of him. He was everything she liked in others. He was young, good looking and well… naive. That naiveness was what made this harder for England. Every time he thought about wooing America back to his side, he felt like he was going to be taking advantage of him.

But, England tried to reason with himself, he would never use America. He would protect him from anything. He would fight for America. If anyone would take advantage of him it would be France.

"What are you doing?" England almost jumped at the sound of that voice. America was standing by the door, he looked confused. 'Are you talking to yourself?"

Had England been saying all that out loud? He hoped he hadn't. he didn't want America to know what thoughts had been running through his mind.

"I'm sorry." America looked up in surprise. "I shouldn't have reacted like that. I didn't know you were feeling so alone. I should have known better." He should have. England knew how loneliness felt like. "What I'm trying to say is that I didn't mean to yell at you like that."

America stayed by the door. He seemed to be thinking something over. "I'm not completely blameless. I'm not sorry about trying to form other friendships. But I should have said something. But if we are coming clean now…I kissed France. You were right."

England could feel himself twitch. He'd known, he knew France well, but part of him had hoped that it wasn't so. "Did anything else happen between you two?"

"That's private." America was starting to look embarrassed.

England began to walk closer to America. He brushed America's hair back. "You are blushing." England said as he trailed a finger down the side of America's face. America moved backwards into the wall.

"I don't want to talk about this with _you_." America spoke out. He wrapped his arms defensively around himself.

England shrugged it off. He wouldn't let it bother him. He was going to make America forget about anything if something had indeed happened between them. America wouldn't go out to search for anyone else.

He felt America shiver under his touch, his lips twitched as he tried to hold back a smile. He kissed America's head, pulling back just in time to see the colony try to hide his spreading blush. He tried not to think how cute he looked like that.


	6. Chapter 6

_This one is longer because it was I believe the last 3 written chapters. At the time I had an outline written and half a chapter from France's point of view. But I decided to leave the fandom and the story was never completed. Like I mentioned in the first chapter, I currently don't have any plans to continue this. If you are interested in how it would have ended, I made a smaller note at the end of this chapter. But I just wanted to say, that this is it. Thank you for reading (new readers and those who read in on the Kink Meme). I had a lot of fun writing this and my only regret was that I lost my love for the fandom before I could complete it._

* * *

Things fell back into a sense of normality after a few days. England wouldn't even mention France once. For some reason this bothered America even more. They weren't dealing with the issues, just ignoring them.

"I wanted to teach you how to dance, better." England then added the last part as he led America into the room. He had asked America to join him after they had finished eating. America had believed that England wanted to talk. He hadn't been expecting this.

England's –almost predatory, he realized- smile was slightly terrifying. America had never seen him smile like that before. He wasn't sure if he wanted to see that kind of smile ever again.

America just stared at the older nation before quickly looking away. "I'm good, I know how to dance." He hated when England was acting weird like that. It was something that he had been doing all day, sadly. Before America could react, a hand had wrapped around his waist and was pulling him away from the window.

"I saw you." England said besides him. "That's how I know you need more practice." England turned America around to look at him.

America tried to slip away to no avail. England's grip was strong and very warm. "I'm sure someone else can do this. It makes more sense that I practice with a woman anyway." America tried to pull away once more.

England seemed to think it over for a bit before shrugging. "I don't see it. I can teach you just as well. I've been dancing for far longer than any human alive today. Now," England positioned them, "let's get started."

England was indeed a better dancer out of the two of them. America was having trouble keeping up with the older nations. A few time he ended up losing his balance and tripping forwards. England was always there to catch and pull him closer. This only worsened America's embarrassment. By the time they were done his face was as red as a tomato.

"I think we are done for the day." England finally announced proudly.

Now that he was free, America didn't waste another second before he was basically running out of the room. He felt unusually warm for the weather. It didn't help that he could still smell England all over him. The English nation didn't smell as strongly as France. But he still had his own distinctive smell. It wasn't unpleasant, but it was giving America all sorts of funny feelings.

"Why can't he teach you?" America said when he was alone with Canada. It wasn't like America needed to learn how to dance any better than he did now. He rarely went to those sorts of events. Even when he did, he rarely asked anyone out for a dance.

Canada, having heard this before already, rolled his eyes. "I'm sure England just wants to help. You aid yourself that you wanted to spend more time with him. Plus if you should know, France taught me how to dance years ago."

America tried not to think about the Frenchwoman too much. "Yes, but I wanted to do things I like. I think this is just his cruel way to get me back." America was in no way overreacting. England had some strange ways to get back at people. France had told him all the things held done to other countries, like Spain and even France herself.

"I hope tomorrow he finds something else to do." Nothing could be worse than those dance sections. The way England kept pulling him close. America threw himself on his bed. He needed to stop thinking about that.

"America." England began, finding the colony sitting under a tree.

"I'm not going to dance again, England." America cut the older nation off immediately. There was no way he was going through with the embarrassing lessons again. "My toes still hurt." Not really, but England didn't need to know the truth about that.

"I'm not going to force you to do anything you don't want to. Plus I think we made a lot of progress yesterday." England sat besides America. America tried not to sulk with England so close. He also tried not to think of the warm radiating off the body now sitting so close to him. Instead he focused on pulling his coat closer around him. Winter hadn't started yet and he already couldn't wait for spring.

"England," America began after a moment of silence, "have you ever been in love."

England coughed. "I…well…why are you asking such a thing lad?" America found it funny to see England looking so flustered.

America shrugged. He didn't know why he had asked. It had been a random though. 'I was just thinking. You don't have to answer." His reaction had been answer enough. No one could look that nervous, unless they had something to hide.

"Yes." England finally said. He looked a lot less nervous when he answered.

"How can you tell, when you are in love I mean?" England blushed again.

"I'm not really the right person to be asking this sort of things." America nodded. He'd thought so. But he'd hoped that maybe he was wrong. He guessed that France was probably the better choice to be asking these things. She knew a lot about romance, about love. Too bad that he couldn't exactly go to her and ask her.

He doubted she was even still in the colonies. Not after her last meeting with England. He doubted she would be visiting for quite some time. "I'm going back."

America helped himself up. It was starting to get colder outside anyway. He wanted to drink something warm. He also wanted to talk to Canada. He'd been raised by France. He probably knew a lot more than America did.

Even without looking back he knew that England was following. Already America was missing that warm body next to his. It was such a strange feeling. But not for the first time that day he wondered if it was love? Or maybe it was just something else. He hoped it was the later. He didn't think that he should be having these feelings.

He couldn't think of England like that, France, maybe. But she was different. She wasn't like England. With France there was a chance that she could return his feelings. But with England, he wouldn't, he couldn't. America didn't know what to think anymore.

"I don't know why you think I can help." America managed to track his northern brother in the library. His brother looked up in surprise when America arrived, cup of tea in one hand and a book in the other. America didn't doubt that England wasn't proud how Canada had turned out like.

America had then asked Canada the same question he had asked England. "America, love is different for every individual. I can't tell you if you are in love or not. That is something that only you can tell." America frowned. Why couldn't Canada just be direct about things?

"If I knew, I wouldn't be asking." America picked a random book and sat across from his brother. "I tried asking England. But that wasn't very helpful." Maybe if America told Canada that he was worried because his feelings were connected to England. But he didn't know what Canada's reaction would be. What if he went to England and told him?

Canada closed his book. "I'm going back home tomorrow. I have a lot of work to do and England said he was going to stay with you for some time."

"So soon?" America had hoped to have Canada around more.

"I know, I'm sorry, but I haven't been part of the Empire for long. My people are still adapting, they need me around." Canada patted America's hand. "You should visit me. It isn't always cold in my house you know."

"I know that." America protested. He just ended up visiting during the cold months and thus ended up complaining about the weather for most of his stay. "I will." It would do him some good to get out more. England couldn't complain if he went and visited his brother.

Thankfully England decided not to cook that night. Canada had a long trip to make. Eating anything England cooked before leaving wouldn't have been painful, a curse even. After that they talked some more about the trip. Making sure that Canada had everything he needed. Already making plans for future visits.

America stayed with him that night and waved goodbye to his brother that morning. Even before noon arrived, he was already missing the other colony. Without Canada he had no one to talk about England.

Right now he could talk to England. But he couldn't talk to England about England, the same person that America talked to Canada about. He could change the names around. But the topics would still be too embarrassing to talk to England about.

When America came across England the next day, he was wearing his uniform. It was still early in the day, but England hadn't mentioned any official business he needed to attend. It was not unusual for England to dress up like that when he had a meeting with some high-up official.

America admitted that the clothes fitted England. Red had never been his color, he was a lot fonder of blue, but it fitted England.

It actually more than fitted him. America was sure that green was color that would look great on the island nation. It would match his perfect emerald eyes, not that America was looking at those all the time, but red was still fitting. The uniform made him look almost like royalty.

America started to feel warm the moment his thoughts began to drift more towards thinking about England. He began to shake those thoughts away. It wasn't the sort of things he should be thinking about the older country.

"Are you leaving?" America asked, all while trying to hide his concern. With Canada –and probably France- gone he couldn't believe England was also leaving so soon.

England looked up at America with slight confusion. He quickly understood America though and with a faint smile stepped forward. "No, these are new. I wanted to make sure they fit accordingly." England looked down at his uniform, inspecting it carefully.

America couldn't help but follow England's eyes. They fit. There was no doubt about it. "They fit," America then coughed to hide his embarrassment, "not that I know a lot about this sort of thing."

England smile widened. If he was aware of how flustered America was, he didn't comment on it. America tried to distract himself by looking at the wall and before he had a chance to react. England had stepped forward, closing the distance between them even further.

"That's excellent." England looked at America, this action only made America blush harder. "Maybe I should get you an uniform too. I think it would fit you rather well." England's hands trailed up America's arms as he continued to look at the colony.

America stepped backwards, almost walking right into the wall. He'd noticed that England touched him a lot more lately. If he had to guess, America was sure the whole business with France had something to do with that. Yet he still couldn't understand. Canada probably would have known. But he wouldn't be seen his brother until he visited him in the spring.

"I don't think so." Those clothes looked far too stiff for his liking. "I'm grateful, but I'd rather pass. They wouldn't fit me at all."

"Nonsense lad, of course it would fit you… you are part of the British Empire after all." England continued to look thoughtful, though America couldn't miss the growing smirk. "I really like the idea."

America groaned. He hated himself. Even more because he knew he would wear them just to make England happy. It was for the same reason why he ate his food. No matter how burnt or tasteless it was. It was all just to see him happy, to see England smile.

America continued to be unaware of how predatory England's smile continued to get.

It was not easy trying to seduce the young American colony. The boy was extremely naive and somehow managed to miss every hint England managed to throw at him. Sometimes England started to believe that America was doing it on purpose. But then he quickly decided that just wasn't possible, America wasn't capable of doing something like that. He was simply oblivious to notice his advances.

England had to remind himself that America was still young and naive. It was the same part of him that made him feel so guilty about it. But it was still better him than France. France would only hurt America, England would only protect him. What was best for America was the only thing that mattered to him. That's why he was forced to ignore the guilty and continue with his plans.

England had cooked him meals, though he would still do that even if he wasn't trying to seduce him. He had taken him on picnics. He'd tried to hint with small touches and sometimes even words. But it was almost like everything just went over his head. For someone that had been hanging around France, America was almost an impossible thing.

But patience was thankfully one of England virtues. He couldn't hurry things when it came to America. He wanted things to be perfect.

If it had been anyone else England wouldn't have cared. When it came to lovers he'd had many. He knew how to get what he wanted without much of a sweat, no matter what France joked about. During his younger and wilder years he'd had many lovers, nations and humans.

But America was not like any of them. America couldn't be a passing lover. He loved America far too much for it to be just that. No, he wanted more when it came to America. If something was going to happen, it would be more serious and good. With America he wanted something long-term. England noticed that this thought didn't surprise him.

He'd known all along that America was not like the others. Not even like the other colonies. It wasn't something he would ever confess out loud. He loved all of them, even the ones that -with reason- weren't happy with him.

It probably made him selfish. Maybe that selfishness was what really made him want to keep France away. Did that made him as bad as or worse than France? Maybe his brothers had been right to say that he loved America too much. He was staring to grow mad if he was thinking that anything they said was right. They'd said that out of jealousy, not believing that someone could actually chose him.

Maybe he was a bit selfish. But he deserved to be a bit selfish after having others always take away what he loved. He had as much of a right to be happy. None of them knew what loneliness felt like. America had been the first to accept him and take some of that loneliness away.

Was France just his excuse? He kept telling himself that he was doing it all to keep her away. But he couldn't deny that he'd started noticing America before knowing she was even around.

He was afraid. England knew that. America had chosen him over France once. But he knew France. If she wanted, she could get America. She could get him to pick her. But maybe that was nothing more than an excuse to feel better about his own feelings.

"England, are you in here?" The sound of America calling him brought England out of thoughts. He'd even forgotten his tea. Thankfully it was still warm. It would have been a sad waste otherwise. England hated wasting things and tea was one of those things that he hated to waste the most.

"Yes, come in." England waited for the door to open and close before turning around to look at America. The colony was already in his nightclothes. Actually by how messy his hair looked. It was almost like he'd gotten out of the bed. "What wrong?" England asked with evident concern. He settled the cup back in its saucer.

America avoided looking at him. It was almost like he was trying to find the right words or he was simply too embarrassed to share what was bothering him. "Have a bad dream?" As a child it was impossible to get America to sleep after one of those.

"No, of course not," America was quick to start protesting. "That would be silly. I'm not a child anymore." Even with America's protest. England could tell right away he was lying. He's stuttering and the way he looked all flustered. It was easy to read America when he was like that.

But England decided not to call the colony out on it. America had always been embarrassed over his nightmares. Calling him out on his lie, would only help in making things worse for him.

"Do you want to stay here with me?" England offered. That was probably the only reason why America had come to him. But he was too shy to openly ask without admitting he was afraid or spooked.

America looked like he was thinking the offer over. But soon nodded and sat down across from England's chair. "I'm only doing this because I'm not tired. Also so you don't have to be alone."

England held back a smile and picked his cup again. "Of course, I understand." England nodded, still trying not to smile. But America's almost pouty face was making it difficult. He tried to focus on other things instead.

They sat in silence for a while until America finally decided to break it. "England," America began. He stopped to think and then continued, "I want to go see Canada during the spring." He blurted out the last part. England only stared. He doubted by that final reaction that that's what America had been meaning to say.

England stood and walked towards America. The younger colony followed him with his eyes. "Is something wrong?" England asked when he was standing in front of America. His eyes never leaving the other's face, as he waited for the reply.

America shook his head. England sighted. Even if America wasn't saying it, he could tell when something was bothering him.

"I don't think I should," America murmured. With those words England had a pretty good idea what or who was the cause of America's worries. There was only one person that America wouldn't want to talk about to England. America had to be like that because of her, France.

"I know that we've had our problems." All thanks to France. But this was not the time to think about that. "But you can tell me if anything is bothering you."

England only wanted what was best for America and his colonies. He'd thought he was keeping them safe, protecting the borders against France and the other nations. England knew that America was lonely. If it had been up to him he would have stayed around always. But he had his own country to look after and the other colonies.

He'd hoped that human companions would have been enough to keep America company. He'd hoped to be a good guardian. But his choices had only made things worse. He didn't want to make that mistake again. England didn't want to see America suffer.

He'd won America from France years ago. Only to now loose him to her. "Do you love her?" England hesitated, "Do you love France?"

He didn't want to really hear the answer to that. He knew it would break his heart if America confirmed his feelings towards her. But he was doing this for America. It was time to put his own feelings towards France aside. All for America's own happiness he repeated to himself.

America still wouldn't reply.

"I know what's like to love her. I was in love with her once." America's eyes widened, but England continued on. "I know what is like to love her. I didn't want you to go through what I did when I was—" England held America's face in his hands. "But that's not why I tried to keep her away."

"England, you don't have to say anything else." America touched the hand resting against his face.

England shook his head. He wanted to say it. "My biggest fear has always been that you would change your mind. That one day, you would regret choosing to stay with me. I never wanted to lose you." England stopped talking as a pair of warm arms wrapped around his neck.

America's voice was muffed and his head resting on his neck and out of view, kept England from directly looking at him. But he didn't' miss the pain on the colony's voice. "Never, England I would never do that."

America couldn't believe the Englishman would think that he regretted his decision. Not even during those periods that he'd been upset at England during his long periods without visits. No, America had chosen England over France that day and he would never go back on that choice.

"America, I didn't mean—" England didn't got a chance to finish his sentence before America interrupted him.

America moved his head slightly to be able to talk without England's clothes muffing his voice. "No. I can't believe you would think that." America pulled back to look at England's face. "I love you, I've always loved you. But I also love France."

England looked downwards. His body tensed after America confirmed his feelings for France.

America continued on, "But, I love you more. I've always loved you since I met you. I could never abandon you like that, not for someone else. I know you worry, but I can look after myself and I won't be running off to another Empire when you turn your back. I am a British subject, am I not? I have no desire to become a French one any time soon."

England had to smile at that. "I don't think you would make a good French colony anyway." America nodded at that. The French were too extravagant for his tastes. America hadn't lied when he'd said he was happy being a subject of the British Empire, an Englishman. Even when he would grow to be his own country, he would still be proud of his English roots.

America allowed himself to smile too. He moved forward to hug England again. "Can I stay with you tonight? I don't want to sleep alone."

From his position America couldn't see the way England's face heated up. "No, I don't think that would be a good idea."

America looked up at the older man. His lips quivered in the same manner he'd learnt to do as a child. England could never resist him when he did that. It wasn't long before the looks America was giving England began to work their magic. England finally ended up giving in against his better judgment.

"Thank you!" America jumped forward to hug the English nation. England just barely managed to hold into him and not fall down from the force of the impact. America only laughed. He needed to remember to be more careful. But in his overexcitement, he'd forgotten that he wasn't the same small child anymore.

England didn't look as excited as America about the idea. But he tagged along anyway. "Just be more careful when you throw yourself at me like that."

America nodded with a smile. "I forget that I'm as tall as you now. You can't pick me up and carry me like you used to." If America tried, he could probably carry the Empire. If America thought about it he probably could have done that as a child with his strength.

America chuckled out loud. He was expecting England to ask why he was laughing. But when he looked at him, England was apparently so deep in thought he hadn't heard him. It wasn't the first time England acted weird like that. America decided to just ignore it. England was probably overworking himself again. Once America was his own nation, he would make sure England would never have to overwork himself in any way.

Sometimes England hated his luck. America's words were reassuring. England believed his colony and that was enough for him. But even if France was no longer a danger, couldn't take America away. He without doubt was attracted to his colony. He wasn't sure how much control he could have when the subject of his affection wanted to sleep next to him.

England made sure to keep enough distance between his body and that of the colony. If he tried he could keep to himself until the night was over or so he hoped. But he suddenly discovered that it wasn't going to be so easy.

While England was trying to keep his distance, to keep himself from jumping the naive colony sleeping besides him. America was doing everything to keep as close to him as he could. In his sleep, probably searching for a source of warm, the colony threw an arm over his body. Moving closer and caging him under the weight. It was embarrassing how strong America had gotten, strong enough that England was unable to move from under him.

England tried to concentrate in something else. He was trying to keep his mind away from the warm body sleeping next to him. The body that belonged to the person he'd been trying to seduce for the past few days. The pone he'd started to be attracted to after seen him for the first time in years a few months back.

England tried to think about his magical friends, something pure to keep his mind clear. When that didn't work he tried thinking about his irritating older brother. That usually helped distract him. But then America would move next to him. He would breathe down his neck sending shivers down his body.

At one point America's arm finally moved. England breathed out in relief. Only to gasp as it simply moved downwards to wrap around his waist. He had to look around to make sure that America was still sleeping and not simply messing with him. But the colony was sound asleep, unaware of what he was doing to the Empire.

England was sure that he would be able to sleep like this. But before he knew it the warm around him began to ease him into slumber. Maybe he was tired or America's body was nice enough that he allowed himself to relax into the awkward position.

When England next woke up he knew not that much time had passed. It was still dark outside and his body felt like it hadn't slept at all. He tried to change position. But something heavy had him trapped. It tool England only a second to remember what it was. When he did, he began to feel even warmer and he was sure that the temperature of the room had nothing to do with it.

He couldn't allow this to continue. Even if he ended up waking the sleeping colony, England needed to push him off.

All the movement going under him finally started to wake America up. With a groaned America began to finally move. "America?" England began to relax as he felt the body move away. There was another soft groan before the body moved fully away. England finally turned away. Now that America was off him, he could finally get some sleep.

"England?" The call was nothing more than a whisper. At first England thought he was just dreaming. But then there was a hand on his shoulder shaking him. With a groan of his own England tried to look over his shoulder. But it was too dark in the room to see much of anything. Finally In the dark he was almost able to make out two bright blue eyes. "Sorry." America's hand moved from his shoulder.

"That's fine, I wasn't asleep yet anyway." England found America's hand and patted it slightly. "It's fine, really. Now tell me what's wrong lad? What's keeping you" and me, England added silently, "awake."

"I want to kiss you." America finally said, no longer whispering. It was so sudden, that if he hadn't been lying down, England probably would have lost his balance.

"What?" It was the only thing he could think to say. Maybe France had had more of an influence on his colony than he'd previously believed. Maybe America wasn't as naive as England had started to believe. He wondered of America was aware of his own advantages.

"I want to kiss you," America repeated his statement. But this time he sounded less sure of himself. "I've been thinking about it for a while now. I want to… I want to know what's like to kiss you England."

England coughed, moving to a sitting position. "I've kissed you before." England couldn't see them, but he imagined his face had turned a few shades darker.

America made a sound of protest, "Those don't count. I was too young and they were on my forehead anyway." He was starting to sound a lot like that woman too. "England please," America used his best begging voice. He rested both hands on his shoulders and moved closer.

"You can be serious." But America was because he soon felt the touch of soft lips against his own. England wanted to protest. He couldn't understand what had gotten to his colony. But then, this had been his plan all along? What he'd wanted. For the second time that day, England made a decision against his better judgment. He found himself responding to the tentative kiss.

It was quite obvious that America was not experienced in the art of kissing. He was obviously holding back, unsure of what he had to do. But England could only find that more attractive. That America was still untouched, unmarked by another nation still. That not even France herself had gotten that far.

When America pulled away, his breathing heave, England almost chuckled. "Are you happy now?"

"Sorry." America whispered, though he didn't sound it. "I don't regret kissing you. I quite enjoyed it."

"Did you?" England smirked. He couldn't help but feel a bit smug after hearing that. That would teach France to make fun of his abilities.

"Actually," America moved closer once more, "I want to try it again." Before England had idea what was happening America, his very own colony, had pushed him down and was now straddling his hips. England gasped in surprise. The boy was definitely getting heavy, but England wasn't thinking about that. He was more concerned about how close America was sitting to a certain portion of his body.

Once the surprise started to fade, England began to regain some of composure. He couldn't let his colony push him around. Even if it thrilled him just a little bit. "What are you doing?"

England heard America cough before answered. "Well France said that sometimes we have to be a bit daring to get what we want." If they hadn't been so close, England probably would have missed the response. America's voice began to get lower as he began to loose some of his courage.

England was speechless at first, if not a little bit stunned by America's actions and words. He quickly began to recover again and decided that it was time to end up this silliness. It was time to switch things around and for him to regain control of the situation. Using all of his strength as an Empire and no longer worrying about waking America up, with a swift movement he turned their roles around. Flipping America over him and pinning him under his body.

England smiled smugly down at the colony, even though he knew the other couldn't see him. America's strength had wavered away along with his voice, which had made everything a lot easier. "Enough," there was no anger in England's voice. But something on it made America still.

No longer feeling very sure of himself, he dared no try to push England off. Even thought if he tried, he probably could. America had grown a lot stronger that some believed, even him. He still had no experienced all of his own potential.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" England hushed the mumbling colony with a pale finger to his lips. America immediately stopped talking to England's delight. It wasn't often that he could get the colony to stay quiet for more than a second.

"I'm not angry America." England reassured America, his voice softening. "I don't really like people overpowering me like." Though England silently admitted to himself that certain situations may have called for it and he made some exceptions. But today was not one of those days. Today England wanted to be in full control.

"Yes ." Under his hand England felt America nodded. "France told me something like that."

England frowned. 'Why couldn't America just keep quiet about France for a moment?' He asked himself. Another thought came to his mind soon after. 'Maybe he needed to find a better way to keep the colony's mind away from that woman.'

England was the one to bring their lips together this time. He made sure that this one was more forceful than the previous one, more demanding. He wanted to America to remember this one. That he would never think of anyone else's kisses. Hearing America gasp made England smile against the other's softer lips. Finally prowling said lips open, he sneaked his tongue inside.

He hadn't had a chance to taste America before. But this time he took his time. America tasted sweetly, like nothing he'd ever tasted before. He definitely wouldn't have minded another taste. Breaking away to breath England regretted the fact that he couldn't see the colony's expression.

America had no idea what had just happened. One moment he was getting flipped over by England and the next England was kissing. It was nothing like the previous small peck. England's kiss was passionate, it left him breathless and wanting more at the same time. When England finally pulled away to breathe, America almost groaned in disappointed. He wanted England's lips back on his own.

America still on a haze from the kiss was finally brought back to reality by the sound of England's voice. "Are you satisfied now?" There was something different in England's voice, smugness maybe? America wanted to answer. But he found that words had abandoned him. "Now that this is over with, go back to sleep love. Tomorrow is going to be a long day."

England pulled completely away from the body bellow. America heard the bed shift as England returned to his side of the bed. The silence that followed was unnerving. Even after England's breathing pattern evened out, he still couldn't say anything.

America remembered England's words, 'satisfy'. He wanted to laugh, he couldn't say. Did it count if he now wanted more of those kisses? America doubted he would ever be satisfied again. America tried to make out England' silhouette in the dark, he wondered if England was indeed asleep. During his younger years, it wouldn't be unusual for England to pretend to be asleep and then sneak out when America had finally fallen asleep himself.

He couldn't believe England would just go back to bed like that after what had happened. But even after America watched him for what to him felt like hours, the Empire never stirred.

America sighted and turned away from England. Hopefully England would talk to him in the morning. He didn't want England to push this away like it hadn't happened. He would make sure of that. Maybe even, if America dared to hope, he would get another kiss from the Empire. France had been an excellent kisser, but there was something about England's kisses, that made him want more.

* * *

**_Thank you for reading. _**

_In my original outline, because the OP wanted either France/America or England/America. It would have stayed with England/America for some chapters. But the last one would have moved into the Revolutionary War, which left America and France working together (with America having mixed feelings). It would have been an open ended ending. _


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